At ten o'clock punctually, I was at their office in the Borough Road, and was at once shown into a side room, where I sat waiting patiently, for an hour. At last a gentleman in black came forward, saying, very politely--"Mr. Davies, will you please come this way." I followed him up two or three flights of stairs, and we entered a quiet room on the top floor. Seating himself at a table, and taking pencil and paper, he then asked me to be seated and began. "Mr. Davies," he said, "I have received a letter from a lady who has become interested in your case, and wishes to better your conditions. So as to answer this lady, it is necessary to know something of yourself, for which reason I propose asking you a few questions, which, of course, you need not answer except you think proper." This he proceeded to do, at the same time making notes of my answers. After answering a dozen or more questions truthfully, dealing with particulars of my family, and my past life--he brought the case up to that time. "Surely," he said, "you do not live on eight shillings a week. I should have thought that to be impossible." "As for that," I answered, "not only has that sum been sufficient for myself, but I have been able to make another an allowance of two shillings a week, but have not been able to do so since I applied to the Surgical Aid Society." "Now tell me what is the matter with that leg?" asked this gentleman. "I should have thought that it would last for another two years at least. Excuse me, did you get that through the Society?" "No," I said, "it cost me twelve pounds, ten shillings, when I could ill afford the money, but, unfortunately, I knew nothing then of the Surgical Aid Society." "The Society, no doubt, does a large amount of good," continued this gentleman, "but I don't altogether agree with their methods. You have written quite a number of letters?" he asked; "and I don't suppose any of the subscribers helped you with the postage, sending you a trifle to defray expenses?" At this point he made a long pause, and I began to tell him that all the help I had received was from a gentleman who, having no letters left to assist me with, had very considerately sent twelve stamps to help my correspondence. The Charity Organisation showed much interest at this point of the conversation, and said that he thought quite a number of subscribers would have done the same. "As I have already said," he continued, "I don't altogether agree in the methods of the Surgical Aid Society; their cases are maintained too long without result, and allows too good an opportunity for writing begging letters." Not even now could I see the drift of this man's questions--that he suspected me of being an impostor, of writing begging letters. Yes, I, who was bitter at having to bear all this expense, and was grieved at having to withhold two shillings a week from one who was very poor, so that I might be enabled to do so. "How many letters do you now need?" he asked.